She's Your Cocaine
by astronumerous
Summary: Post season 7 episode 'Never Leave Me': Spike is captured by the First. Buffy tries to come to terms with recent events. Willow discovers an interesting prophecy that changes everything. Things are not what they seem on the surface.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Spike is captured by the First. Buffy tries to come to terms with recent events. Willow discovers an interesting prophecy that changes everything.

Setting: Through season 7 episode "Never Leave Me"when Spike is captured by The First, goes off into my own version of the last season with a different but a no less exciting chain of events.

Disclaimer: All characters are the creation and property of Joss Whedon.

**

* * *

  
**

**She's Your Cocaine**

Inspired By these lyrics:

She's your cocaine  
She's got you shaving your legs  
You can suck anything  
But you know you wanna be me  
Put on your make-up boy  
You're your favourite stranger  
And we all like to watch  
So shimmy once and do it again  
Bring you sister  
Bring you sister if you can't handle it  
She says control it  
Then she says don't control it  
Then she says you're controlling  
The way she makes you crawl  
She's your cocaine your Exodus laughing  
And she knows what you are  
So shimmy once and do it again

If you want me to  
Boy I could lie to you  
You don't need one of these to let me inside of you  
And is it true  
That devils end up like you  
Something safe for the picture frame  
And is it true  
That devils end up like you  
So tied up you don't know how she came  
She's your Cocaine

----Tori Amos

* * *

CHAPTER 1

He always knew their love was dark. Even before the burning light in his chest brought the shadows dancing upon the memories of the past. Funny, that--he sought out the most fatal element to his kind, fought for it to be shoved inside his chest. The spark. Shoulda set him aflame, ashes aflight on the breeze. Sometimes it feels like it has. Feels like it is burning him alive from the inside.

At the moment though, the twisting pain of his soul is eclipsed by the searing pain of the bright glowing metal blistering the skin of his neck. He vaguely recognizes his own screams, it's been so long he can't separate where his voice ends and his thoughts begin. Or hers.

"You know Spikey, you brought this on your self," she said with a smirk pulling at the edges of her mouth. "You thought a soul would make you human enough? Make me love you?"

She pulled the poker away from his skin, little pieces of his neck sticking to the metal. She frowned at it, clucking her tongue and handing it to the ancient vampire behind her. "Put it back in the fire."

Spike tried to stand, put some weight on his feet instead of hanging solely by his wrists. The ropes had dug into his flesh of his arms, so much so that the first few nights he spent hanging on this wall blood ran down his forearms, dripping off his elbows and creating puddles at his feet.

Since then, many more puddles had been created.

None of his wounds bleed anymore--he hasn't eaten in...he can't even remember how long. At first he attempted keeping track of the time. But that was when he could stay conscious long enough to monitor the coming and goings of the ancient vampire he helped raise. When it left the cave it must've been night. Spike wondered why it wasn't dead yet. Why the Slayer--the real Buffy--hasn't killed it yet.

_Maybe it killed her first._

No. No, that wasn't a possibility, he scolded himself. She is going to come for him. She is going to come for him. She is going to come for him. She is going to come for him. She is going to come for him. She is going to come for him. She is going to come for him. She is going to come for him. She is going to come for him.

Suddenly a slap, a sharp stinging sensation on his cheek, tore him from his mantra. Long, blood red fingernails trailed along his jaw line.

"Now now now...picket white fences and buckets of dew drops aren't allowed here..." Drusilla swayed in front of him, her fingertips dancing across his chest, "My silly William. She doesn't want you. All broken and legless, she won't let you play anymore."

He willed himself to look away. To block out the First's ramblings and focus on her. On the image of her golden hair, her bright green eyes, full of strength and determination. Determination to find him.

Dru gripped his jaw, digging her nails into his skin and forcing him to stare into her--it's--eyes. "I know what haunts you, my boy. My sweet, sweet Spikey." Her voice is soft and doll-like, a perfect imitation of the real Dru, but the look in it's eyes is empty. et, sweet Spikey." Her voice is soft and doll-like, a perfect imitation of the real Dru, but the look in it's eyes is empty. Void of anything--even the child-like innocence masking the madness that he remembers of Dru. Or at least, he thinks he remembers. If he was honest with himself he would have to admit that he doesn't really remember anything. The more he tries to concentrate on a memory, the more it dissolves, like sand sliding through his fingers.

It's a game, he tells himself. A trick. By this...this thing pretending to be his psychotic ex-lover. This thing that pretends to be his Slayer. Pretends to know her.

"Oh, but I do know, William, I do," Dru cooed in his ear, her breath cold and sour against his skin. When she reappears in his vision, she is the Slayer again, holding a dagger engraved with runes and symbols that seem to dance across the blade.

"I will never save you."

...........................................................................

Short, I know. More to come.


	2. Chapter 2

Note: So, the most loyal BTVS and Angel fans out there will recognize certain elements of this story that actually did occur/appear in the TV series, but keep in mind things are not how they appear of the surface. The events in this story work as catalysts towards new, different, and (in my opinion) wholly more satisfying events. I liked BTVS season seven, but I didn't love it. This is just one of the possible alternatives. I'm sure I will write many more in the future.

Hope you enjoy.

* * *

**CHAPTER 2**

"I think I found something!"

Buffy stopped mid-punch and threw the red sparring gloves to the ground, leaving the punching bag swinging idly in the air as she ran past it and bounded up the basement stairs.

On the other side of the door, the Scooby gang was sprawled across various pieces of furniture in her living room. All except for Willow, of course, who had been up all night thumbing through countless volumes of ancient texts and searching on her laptop.

Xander rubbed his eyes and stretched, obviously just woken up. "This had better be good, Will, Dr. Octavius was just about to de...feat..." Xander glanced down sheepishly, "...I mean, What'd you find, Will?"

Anya pulled herself off of her pillow--a.k.a. Xander's shoulder--and craned her neck side-to-side to work out the kinks. She avoided his gaze, shifting uncomfortably when she remembered she was supposed to be mad at her ex-fiance, not getting all cozy and taking a nap on him.

"Well, I mean, I think I found something. Th-there's a lot of confuse-y type wording in this volume, thanks to good ol' long winded Roger the Watcher...but yeah, I uh, I think I might've found something."

"What Willow?" Buffy closed the basement door and took her place looking over her friend's shoulder, her eyes scanning the open book for whatever had her so excited. It had been three days. Three days since they burst into her house and took him. She wouldn't admit it to anyone, but all she could think of was getting him back.

Which only confused her.

When he was here, chained in her basement, things were so...difficult. She couldn't reconcile within herself the fact that she drove him to bring all this pain and suffering onto himself. That she drove him to getting his soul. Part of her even felt pissed off at him, pissed off for coming back with his soul because she was left with no excuse not to be with him now.

But...isn't that a good thing? Shouldn't she want to be able love him? God, she was so bad at these things.

"Right here, it's only a brief paragraph but look!" Willows pointed to the bottom of the page, where scribbled in red cursive handwriting she read aloud, "The ka'jka we captured led the Slayer to a seer of sorts. I've been unable to ascertain the particular species of this demon but it's premonition ability leads me to believe it is a species Laurite. It told the Slayer of a souled vampire that is of great threat to her now, but when the third moon of Neptune aligns with the fifth, will save the world."

Willow glanced up at everyone's blank looks. "That is in...fourty four days and twenty-six hours from now" No one said a thing. "Still with the silence! What if this has something to do with the First capturing Spike?"

Giles took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, taking in a deep breath. "Let's not be too hasty here. We don't know that the prophecy wasn't referring to Angel, it could very well have--"

"Yeah, Willow," Xander interrupted, "I mean Spike isn't exactly the hero type. He isn't even the form-a-coherent-sentence type last time we saw him." He laughed at his own joke but quickly withered at Buffy's glare.

"No, that's the thing," Willow flipped back a page in the Watcher's diary and held it up for everyone to see, but only Giles stood and took it. He silently stared at the page for over a minute, not even breathing. Finally, he put the book down on the table and took off his glasses again, this time setting them down on the table as well.

He leaned forward heavily, bracing his arms on the edge of the table. "This...certainly is interesting."

"Giles?" Buffy was getting impatient; the First was still out there waiting to kick her ass again, Spike was captured, being used for some ungodly purpose that she didn't want to even imagine and the bringers could bust through the door at any minute to take out the potentials--it was hardly the time for delicacy. "Giles! Tell us!"

He sighed deeply and replaced his glasses, putting his hands in his pockets. "The date on this entry is July sixth, nineteen-twenty-three. Which means--"

"Angel had his soul." Buffy interrupted her watcher as it dawned on her: the demon seer said the vampire who would save the world was of great threat to the Slayer at the time. Angel wouldn't have hurt a hair on a human's head, but Spike was, well, the big bad slayer of slayers at the time. "Does it say anything else? Anything about what it wants with Spike? Where it would take him?"

Giles picked the diary up and began to slowly pace around the room. Buffy took a seat next to her best friend, her mind reeling from the implications of what she just discovered. Spike. In a prophecy. One where he is hailed as the savior. She was just getting used to the idea of him having a soul--Who was she kidding? 'Getting used to?' The idea still made her all conflict-y inside--now she has to accept him as their Chosen One? Oh boy, if only Angel knew...

"There isn't much more written on the incident. Mr. Hawthorne and his slayer apparently didn't give the seer's warning much heed."

"Who would? A souled vampire? That was unheard of in those times. Let alone a vampire that saved the world." Willow pulled her laptop onto her lap and began tapping away at the keys. "I'll see what I can find online, there has to be something in the way of astronomical mythology of the specific alignment mentioned. I'm no expert, but it can't be a coincidence that the world is gonna go all cablooey at the exact time of a rare planetary event."

"No expert? I think we've been through enough apocalypses at this point to get our Ph.D.'s on the subject," Anya muttered not-so-quietly. "You guys can stay here and get buried under a pile of dusty books, I'm going to get in the shower before the wanna-be stampede." She got up from the couch, staring at her feet to avoid Xander's gaze, and shuffled out of the room. Xander shifted nervously, uber-aware of everyone looking at him. Things between Anya and him have been...tense doesn't quite sum it up...more like awkward beyond belief. Anytime either of them are near each other, the entire room goes silent as if there is a slow motion crash going on in front of their faces.

Buffy pulled her attention back to Giles, who was flipping through the pages of the journal. She thought about the vampire, the--what did Willow call it? A turok-han?--the turok-han she fought the other day, when she was so close to finding Spike. She could feel it. Feel him. If they developed anything during the sick, twisted game they played last year it was a connection, for better or for worse.

She could sense him. And she knew he could sense her.

Although he could always sense her, couldn't he? Even before her death--the second time--he knew her better than she knew herself. Maybe he has always been the one for her, she just couldn't (wouldn't) see it.

"Willow, look up..." Giles handed Willow the journal, "...the Amulet of Quar Nehzthen. Hurry. We may actually have much less time than we thought."

* * *

He leaned back in his leather office chair and opened the bland manila file. Harmony must've stopped by the Estimate department early, as when he entered his office he was greeted by a huge stack of new risk files on his desk. The Estimate department gauges any recent or on-going threats to the firm, summarizes it neatly in a four page assessment and sends it to him for action evaluation. Most of the "risks" are small time demons, hustlers, or otherwise enterprising vampires trying to make a name for themselves--in other words, not worth his time. But the code of bureaucracy mandates he look at every single file before any are dismissed.

By the time he was half way through the pile the sun was already almost setting. Is this what the rest of his life--after-life--was going to consist of? Menial office tasks during the day and playing demon peacekeeper during the night? And he thought taking over an evil-law-firm was going to be action 24/7...god, was he delusional.

Angel set down the file on...a vampire called Denny who attacked one of their basic clients with a hammer...and rubbed his hands over his face. He looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "I bet you think this is real funny don't you? You know, I'd rather be in an alley hunting rabid rats than sitting here right now, but no, no you'd prefer me using my 'repenting' time running an evil law firm..." There was no response, but of course not. He was sitting in an empty office, yelling at the Powers-that-Be through the ceiling. What did he expect? A thundering, booming voice to all the sudden--

A bright flash out of the corner of his eye broke his reverie and he spun around in his chair, ready to fight whatever demon teleport...except there was nothing there...Angel got out of his chair, cautiously circling his desk.

On the floor directly in front him there was slight dirty envelope the size of a piece of paper. He picked it up and flipped it over, looking for a return address, but found it didn't even have Wolfram and Heart's address on it. It was blank. And unusually heavy. Angel thought for a second that he should send it to Fred's lab first, have it analyzed before he opened it. Who knows what could be inside--considering the, well, 'unorthodox' arrival, it could be any number of potentially harmful--lethal--things.

The thought quickly left his mind as curiosity got the better of him. Angel tore off the top half and turned the envelope upside down, pouring the contents into his left hand. He tossed the empty envelope aside.

Not exactly what he expected to find, especially from a magically delivered package.

Angel picked up the phone on his desk and dialed the extension to Wesley's office...because he had no idea what he was looking at except a reasonably old, yet still pretty, amulet.

...........................................................

More to come. Stay Tuned. Thanks for reading. Please let me know what you think.


End file.
